


Love me, Love me

by thisislegit



Category: Lupin III
Genre: 5+1 Things, Action, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Comedy, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Polygamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-24
Updated: 2020-11-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:07:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27691133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisislegit/pseuds/thisislegit
Summary: Fujiko Mine was a woman of many talents, but underneath her flawless exterior was a person (a beautiful, smart, clever, funny, and extremely modest person) who had her own hang-ups. She made mistakes, and did her best to counter them just like anyone else would. Whether or not she had help was irrelevant. Most of the time.Or five times Fujiko told her lovers to tell her they loved her, and one time she says she loves them.
Relationships: Arsène Lupin III/Mine Fujiko, Ishikawa Goemon XIII/Jigen Daisuke/Arsène Lupin III/Mine Fujiko, Ishikawa Goemon XIII/Mine Fujiko, Jigen Daisuke/Mine Fujiko
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	Love me, Love me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TemporaryDysphoria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TemporaryDysphoria/gifts).



> Un-beta'd (god this is so fucking late) bday gift for a lovely friend of mine
> 
> @TemporaryDysphoria youre amazing <3

Let it never be said that Fujiko Mine didn't get what she wanted. In the events that she didn't, there was a single constant responsible. Lupin. A man she loved, a man she hated, a man who would go to the ends of the earth for her and dangle her along the edge teasing that he might let go before pulling her in and hugging her as tightly as he could with a hundred apologies on his lips were he to see the slightest bit of doubt in her eyes.

"Tell me you love me," she said as they sat across from each other at a cloth covered dinner table.

The restaurant was expensive. Just her taste. It wasn't her birthday, but she had cancelled a date with a handsome man holding a more handsomely sized fortune when Lupin had promised something nicer. Something better. She tried not to let him pull her along. Most of the time she was successful. Yet this time, well, it'd been a while since she'd last sunk her teeth into Lupin. Maybe she was hungry for a big bite. To steer away from her usual fare for something more familiar.

Lupin smiles his big goofy smile that's all teeth and is a moment from having his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Fujiko knew why. She was always a sight to behold, but this time she held a little restraint. Instead of the low drooping v-necks or loop collars her evening gowns bore, this one came up to her neck with a single triangle of a window showing off her cleavage. Lupin zoned in on it when he'd walked up to their table, and she wasn't shy taking a few extra deep breathes to get him babbling when she didn't want to fill the conversation.

"I love you with all my heart," Lupin replied. A sweet cant of words if it wasn't riddled with lecherous intentions.

There was no champagne, but a nearly clear white wine in their glasses. Fujiko found her flute empty one moment and holding a bejeweled necklace the next after she'd closed her eyes to dab her lips with a napkin. She looked at it more closely to see it was the exact necklace she was planning to steal from her cancelled date's manor. The one with the clue to a hidden treasure she'd told absolutely no one about since she'd planned on getting it herself.

"Lupi~n."

"Fujiko-cha~n."

Did he know? Was he trying to get information out of her, or was he going to suggest they team up for this one? She didn't know. She didn't care to find out. Fujiko already called dibs on this score, and she wasn't planning to share. As much as she'd like to rope him in to do all the dirty work, usually his involvement meant a loss of profit whether it was because of having to pay for supplies or having to pay for people. Jigen and Goemon knew what their work was worth and couldn't be bartered with unlike the other grunts she'd hire in the past.

"Why did you want this necklace so badly my dear?" Lupin was still using his sickly sweet voice trying to appear innocent.

They both knew it wouldn't work on her, but this was all a part of the game they played.

She pulled the now slightly damp sapphire necklace from her flute of wine and marveled at the shine. "It's worth 70 million, lover. Who wouldn't want it?"

"70 million for the sapphires, locked behind a safe with all the trimmings. Pressure censored flooring, laser beams, sound activated cameras, a safe within a safe within a safe all holding different passcodes that change every hour. 70 million doesn't seem worth it, don't you think?"

Lupin wasn't hiding that he was onto her now. However, what was the reason he had her cancel the date if he wanted information? He already had the necklace. He could've kept it to himself and gone hunting for the treasure unless… Fujiko smiled. Of course. She knew something he didn't know. About the necklace or the treasure she wasn't sure, but if she could use this to her advantage she would.

She held a hand to her mouth feigning a laugh as she slipped a capsule under her tongue. "Lupi~n."

"Fujiko~."

It was easy coaxing Lupin into giving her a kiss, and she did like kissing him. Genuinely she did. There was a look of annoyance on his face after he swallowed the drug when she'd pulled away. Did he bring his throat bag this time? His eyes started to droop. Nope. Lucky!

"Maybe next time, lover."

"Damn it, Fujikoooo," her name faded off his lips as his head hit the table with a thunk.

Fingers crossed he wasn't faking it like last time. She did check herself for trackers in the elevator and found one on the necklace. She double checked to make sure the necklace itself was real. It was, and slipped the tracker onto an eccentric looking gentleman he let oogle her before they parted ways in the parking lot. She didn't like falling for Lupin’s tricks as much as he didn't like falling hers. Always better safe than sorry.

* * *

Fujiko didn't find Goemon Ishikawa the 13th a hard man to please, but he could be hard to read when he wanted to be. Ah well. That only meant less work for her when she hired him for a job. No hidden intentions with that one. Plus, he was easy on the eyes.

"Something is coming." Goemon's whispered words echoed across the hollow room they were in.

She wasn't adverse to grave robbing. If archeologists could do it for science then why couldn't she to keep her own livelihood? At least that's the logic she'd used on Goemon to get him here. The only problem to this tomb was the puzzle needed to unlock the final mechanism. If she got it wrong the ceiling would fall down on them, so she needed to be very careful with reading and figuring out the riddles within the story.

Her focus would be perfect if it weren't for the weight of Goemon's words ticking at her mind. He said something. Not someone.

"What can you see?" She asked before pushing another stone into place. Almost there. Just a few more.

"The torch lights are going out. One by one."

Another shove. Another stone in place. "Can't you use your samurai eyes or something to see what can't be seen?"

"That is not how samurai abilities work."

"Can't you sense anyone?"

"I cannot." There was a glint of metal, and Fujiko's heart skipped a beat. "Hurry."

Goemon tried not to rush people, so hearing that made Fujiko get back to work. She was moving the next stone with her legs to get it in place faster. Easier said than done. She knew she was a sturdy woman. People always thought she was weak from how she flaunted herself, but she'd had enough guns to her head and knives to her throat to know how to throw a good knockout punch when needed.

The next stone was in place. Just one more and the door would open. Goemon was completely silent. Not even the faint sound of his clothes rustling came to her ears when she lifted the next stone. She wanted to call out to him. Ask if he'd seen anything or if the torches had all gone out, but she held her tongue. If there was danger he'd tell her, or she'd hear his sword cutting something. If whatever it was already got him... Well... It'd be better for her to get through this door before it got her too. Best not to make his sacrifice in vain and all that jazz.

Lifting with her legs, she carried the stone to the last section of which was placed the furthest away from the block to her displeasure. As she approached the hole she heard something. A scraping sound of rock on rock. The noise came deliberately slowly, and she found herself trying to crabwalk faster to her destination. As she set the stone on the ledge, she heard zantestuken leave it's sheath. A hard shove got the block falling into place. Click, click, click, went the old iron gears hidden under stone carved with stories of a time long gone.

Her ears were still perked for noise. The scraping of rock on rock came to a stop. In the room. With its high vaulted ceilings and muted light burning from the only gas lamp Fujiko brought along. She would've brought a flashlight, but the writing and the paint was so old she didn't want to risk maring the lettering before she could read them with UV light.

The large stone door began to creak open. A pained grunt came from her left side. There was a fight going on behind her. Maybe it was one sided. Maybe not. Her hand was on her knife in case the something tried to grab her from behind. More light spilled from behind the door, and Fujiko stepped out of the way to avoid being crushed by 5 feet of stone. She could see inside. The gold. So much of it they'd have to make multiple trips to empty the room.

Had she known this sooner she would've suggested drilling up after finding the target. Another pained grunt this time from her right. If she turned just so she could see a bulky silhouette hidden by the room's shadows. She couldn't see Goemon. Sucking in a breath she darted for the doorway, but a heavy hand grabbed her shoulder.

Her knife was out. The hand holding it was grabbed before the blade could strike a dark brown throat. Goemon looked at her with a mix of shock either from the response or from the strength of a blow he didn't expect he'd have to stop. Fujiko sighed in relief and dropped her hand when her wrist was released.

"What is wrong with you!" She quickly shifted to anger. He knew better than to surprise her like that.

"We cannot take the gold."

"Why not? And what was that thing you were fighting?"

"It was a guardian." Goemon took out his sword and sliced a hunk off of the door.

"GOEMON."

"Watch." He lifted the cut piece as if it weighed nothing and tossed it onto the treasure room floor.

Suddenly the light from the floor cut off. The gold and gems lost whatever glitter and shine they had before the floor fell through straight down the middle. At the bottom sat dark water littered with bones and darker scraps of fabric. Fujiko sucked in a breath and lifted her lantern to peer inside. Upon closer inspection, the gold and jewels were paintings on the wall. An optical illusion for a deadly trap.

"How did you know?" Fujiko lowered the lantern and wanted to kick herself. It was a very good optical illusion, but it didn't mean she felt less dumb for wasting all this time over nothing.

"On the guardian's chest plate were instructions for how to reset it's function. It's job was to collect the bodies from the trap. It seems as though many of this kingdom's enemies fell here when lost in their greed."

In the light she could see a bruise forming around Goemon's neck. Inspecting further, she noticed his right sleeve had been torn off too. He'd won, but it wasn't a clean encounter. However with the score being a ruse, she realized another problem and pouted.

"Goemo~n, I was going to use some of that gold to pay you." Fujiko started towards the hallway trying to look pitiful as Goemon walked alongside her.

He sighed, and she heard the disappointment in it. "It is all right. The guardian gave me a new challenge to learn from. That alone is it's own profit."

It really wasn't, but she appreciated the attempt at comfort. "Do you still love me?"

Goemon choked on his own spit, his face warming as he tried to look at anything but her. A beat passed, and she heard a shy yes come from his lips.

"Tell me." Fujiko pushed making sure to lean her side into his.

Somehow he grew more flustered, and she didn't miss the way his eyes darted to look at her face and then maybe a little lower before he turned his head to look away. They we're almost at the entrance when Goemon said, "I love you," and rushed to the jeep.

Fujiko allowed herself to beam at breaking his unreadable demeanor despite the monetary loss she suffered today. Better luck next time.

* * *

  
  


Fujiko imagined her last moments in a myriad of ways. Being shot dead in her sleep for which she was a light sleeper. Being shot just as she reached the treasure room and bleeding out onto the piles of gold and gems she coveted. A death in luxury. Poisoned by an ex lover. She formed a habit of watching others eat and drink before touching her own plate. Killed by an angry authority figure while in captivity. Unlikely with Zenigata around, but one can never be too careful.

The positive side of herself said it'd be old age that'd do her in after she'd opened a chain of jewelry stores which would put Tiffany's to shame. The romantic side said the last thing she'd see was Lupin’s face as he held her with her life fading away. Fujiko never told him that. He didn't need the ego stroke. Stupid man.

She hiccuped, tasting blood pool in the back of her throat. She didn't know if she was crying. She couldn't see much around the ceiling above her, too tired to turn her head. Jigen cursed, and there was the sound of something crashing to the floor. No, she didn't expect to die in a dinky little shed in the middle of nowhere with Jigen being the last person she saw.

The two got along like wet cats in a barrel at the worst of times. It wasn't as though she didn't like Jigen. She did. She cared about him, and despite his words, his actions spoke louder saying the sentiment was returned if not begrudgingly sometimes. Another curse came from the tiny corner that barely functioned as a kitchen as Fujiko laid there bleeding out on the couch.

It was the only place he could think to set her when he'd ran them up the hill to the shed house. It was clear Jigen hadn't been expecting to use this place, but Fujiko hadn't been expecting to get stabbed either. Not with a switchblade. Not even with a sword. The man who'd attacked them to defend his boss was armed with a cleaver. A sharp one. It'd cut deep into her side and was yanked out just as fast.

She could be dumb sometimes, but she wasn't stupid. She knew a fatal wound when she saw one. Instead of cutting at her rib cage, the cleaver went for the fleshy section just under it. Who knows what organs it hit. Too many to sew up. She'd bleed out first. She knew it because where she tried to hold her side. Her arms. Her hands. Numb. Almost completely.

Jigen returned with a first aid kit that looked more like a small suitcase. Blood smeared his shirt and tie like an ugly inkstain. No. More like someone drove by him and splashed a puddle up his front as he tried to cross the road. All hers. At least from the torso down. Fujiko waited for him to scold her. Tell her how crazy she was for trying to get his gun back to him. She didn't think it was crazy in the moment. She knew when she was outmanned, and any help seemed imperative to get out of there. Lupin was taking too long. Goemon was nowhere to be seen. It was only her and Jigen versus a man with a cleaver, a sniper who got a good shot at Jigen's shoulder which was still bleeding, and an acrobat with a penchant for wearing poison laced nails. An idea she'd thought of stealing before she remembered how much she would scratch the inside of her wrists when she was nervous.

Grabbing his gun was all she could think of to help get them out of there. It worked. They were out of there. That's what mattered. Yet, Jigen's quiet demeanor put a different weight on her mind. A heavier one. She already had an idea that she wouldn't make it, but his silence made everything feel more real. The sewing tools came out, and the thread Jigen grabbed was thick. She wanted to laugh, but her vision grew hazy. Blood oozed from the bullet wound in Jigen's shoulder. How could he ignore it? He was grimacing as he threaded the needle. His hat was gone. His eyes were focused. If his cheeks weren't splotched with gun powder Fujiko might've called him handsome. Maybe.

It was getting harder to breathe, so that's what she tried to focus on. Then she wondered why bother? It wouldn't matter. Soon enough it wouldn't matter.

"Jigen." It was hard to talk. She knew swallowing the blood might be a bad idea, so she let it dribble down the sides of her mouth. What a horrible sight she must make. She'd hoped her death would be prettier. "Tell me…," she took in a shaking breath of air, "you love me."

Jigen had a hard time looking up at her. She could tell. The stiffness in his shoulders coming from the bullet wound and the thought in both their heads. Even if he did everything right, the chance of Fujiko coming back from this would need a miracle and a half. Neither of them had a miracle. It was one of the few things in the world they couldn't steal.

The edge of her vision started to morph from fuzzy to black as she managed to choke out another weak, "tell...me.."

She knew she was crying now. She couldn't do anything else. She didn't want to see. She didn't want to imagine how she looked dying on a couch in some dirty shed in the woods. Fujiko didn't hear Jigen say anything. She didn't even know if he moved, but she felt the barest press of lips against her own and a tickle of hair against her chin. It was brief. There was a pained grunt and the renewed tug of a needle and thread against her slowly numbing torso. It was enough.

"D-don't leave...a scar…" Fujiko managed to say. She thought she smiled for him. She hoped she did before everything went black.

Then suddenly everything was bright. Too bright. And something smelled. Something like pickles and wine?

Blinking her eyes open, she shut them again when red assaulted them.

"Fujiko?"

She knew the voice, but it was like her mind was trudging through gelatin. She tried remembering what happened. Where she was, but all that came out of her mouth was, "Jigen?"

He'd been shot. She remembered that. She was also hurt, but how was still coming to her. "Jigen?"

"Jigen's fine. Mostly. He took good care of you. We're almost at the hospital."

She could feel they were moving somehow, and she felt something foreign in her forearm. Relief came over her as she sagged in his arms. Lupin's arms. It was okay. She'd be okay.

After several months of easing from heavy stitches to thinner ones, all that was left of the incident was a thin light line along her side. It was easy to hide with waterproof foundation. The doctors said she should very much be dead after Lupin brought her in. According to the surgeon, she was extremely lucky someone was there to stitch her up so expertly.

So here she was now, sitting in a coffee-stained chair of a motel room twirling her hair along her fingers as she watched her gunman grumble while cleaning his gun. Lupin had left them alone to grab something, and she couldn't be bothered to turn on the TV. Instead she watched him. Thinking about the kiss. They'd kissed before. She was always the initiator whether to rile him up or get his attention. It was the first time he'd ever kissed her first, and she was annoyed it happened when they both thought she would die. Dramatic asshole.

"Did it leave a scar?"

She must've been too quiet, because Jigen's attention was on her now. The magnum was set aside fully put together and almost shining from the treatment it'd been given.

A scar? Oh. Her last will and testament. Of course Jigen would remember. She smiled, "It didn't. Thank you."

The words sounded flighty, but Jigen returned the smile knowing she meant it.

"Good. Cause I been holding this in for months and I wanted to wait til Lupin was gone." He cleared his throat and started, "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW FUCKING STUPID THAT WAS. I OUTTA-"

Fujiko covered her ears in an attempt to tune him out. It didn't work.

  
  


* * *

  
  


This was not Fujiko's cleanest escape. It also wasn't her messiest thank god. From what she could see, neither her nor Goemon were severely injured, but they did take some bruising.

In the back of her mind, she wondered why each enemy pursued them so differently. The cops were different from the mafia, the mafia different from some corporate asshat, the corporate asshat different from the military asshat, and so on and so on. She didn't have a preference for who she stole from, but Fujiko did enjoy not getting shot at when she was having to fly a helicopter.

Cops had to obey those laws to protect civilians, military assholes did as well, the mafia and corporate asshats? Not so much if at all. Money smoothed things over for them faster than anyone else to her chagrin. Unfortunately for her, that also meant they could hold a grudge for much longer.

It wasn't her fault! How was Fujiko supposed to know the prized ring set she was after was a keepsake from the mafia lord's grandmother before she passed away. She didn't know said grandmother took care of him and taught him everything he knew. She didn't know the rings were the only thing he had left of the dead woman since her body was never found. Fujiko definitely didn't know he'd spent years trying to find a wife that acted exactly like his deceased grandma which was just as creepy as it was nasty to think too hard about.

She might've had an inkling of what stealing the rings would wrought if the bastard bothered to have a single picture of the old woman in his house! But nooo, all he had were portraits of his wife who looked 15 years older than him, and photographs of all the cars he owns decorating his mansion walls.

A rush of air came from behind her while more bullets slung past the windshield. She didn't have to look back to know what Goemon was doing. It was a regular feat of the samurai to jump out of a flying vehicle,land on the enemy one to cut it in half before jumping off to be picked up by the driver, usually Fujiko.

She'd become very good at nimble maneuvering because of it. Wouldn't do to lose her muscle in the middle of the ocean, or worse as a splatter on concrete. Taking off her headphones, not like she'd need to hear incoming messages anyway, Fujiko waited for the helicopter to get close and pulled up. Goemon fell away and she could see his perfect landing on top of the pursuing helicopter now below her.

One cut, and he leaped to their pursuers companion helicopter. Fujiko figured now would be a good time to get low enough so Goemon could hop back in. The helicopter ducked low, swerving to the right to get closer. Goemon didn’t have to look when he leaped. She was there. Except there was a third helicopter that wasn’t close and neither of them had seen. It was close enough to shoot a fair distance. Her heart jumped into her throat. Maybe she pissed off that dead grandma and the bitch was asking heaven or hell to make things harder for her. Taking a knife out of her pocket she cut the tie holding the rope ladder in a roll and it fell from the open door.

She watched, holding her breath as a bullet clipped Goemon’s shoulder. Another sank through her windshield from behind her. Goemon grabbed onto the ladder before the helicopter he cut fell, but the bullets were raining harder from behind, and the enemy was getting closer. A shout came from Goemon, and Fujiko slammed the controls into some semblance of auto-pilot. It’d only hold for a minute at most. No time to think. She hauled herself out of her seat to get to the open door. Goemon was hanging onto the rope ladder which had been shot. One of the main ropes had been cut from a bullet while the other started to unravel. What she thought was a clip to a shoulder was much worse from the blood pooling down his sleeve and along his collar as he tried to climb up with his sword in his mouth.

For a moment the bullets stopped. There was only the air blowing hard from the propellers. The thumping of her heart in her chest. The rush of adrenaline since she knew the helicopter behind her was about to shoot something much worse. And the look on Goemon’s face when the rope finished unraveling. It was as if everything moved in slow motion. She braced her heeled shoes against either side of the door at the flooring. She managed to grab his arm. The bloodied one unfortunately. He was too heavy. The wind sent a stronger torrent trying to pull them both down. She screamed as she felt her shoulder pop out of its socket, but she didn’t let go.

Goemon’s look of fear changed to shock mingled with pain as he grimaced. Now they had a new problem. Fujiko could not with confidence pull him up with a dislocated shoulder. The enemy helicopter gained enough ground where if she were to turn her head, she would see the smug mafia boss’s face in the transparent windshield. Goemon was also not close enough to cut the damn thing without risking losing his sword in the wreckage. She’d been caught in a corner before, but this was definitely going on her lists of close calls if they made it.

She had a similar grimace on her face, before she did her best to change it to a pained smile. Lady Luck please give her something to work with. She asked Goemon the words stagnantating as they left her lips, “Tell me you love me?”

The corner of his lip turned up a bit at her antics. They both heard the missile leave it’s chamber from the helicopter, and Fujiko gave him a nod. Goemon unsheathed zantestuken. The missile was aimed for them both, but another wind current knocked it lower. Low enough for Goemon to cut through it. Low enough for him to use its shape to leverage himself up as the stick shift wobbled tossing their helicopter to the side. The explosion pushed him the rest of the way up, knocking them both back into their helicopter.

Fujiko let out a pained grunt, Goemon sprawled on her front, his face pressed against her abdomen from the impact. They were still slowly sinking downward, but she spared him a cute grin.

“Goemon, at least buy me dinner first.”

His face grew warm as he shambled off of her. The movement was quick, and Fujiko realized she still needed to pull themselves up and away at the controls. Ignoring her shoulder and the waves of the ocean water lurching towards them from the windows, she got back into the pilot seat. She thanked Lady Luck for her breeze of mercy. Just needed to stabilize the helicopter. Then they had to run. It was hard steering one handed, but Fujiko managed it. Next time she’d get an auto-pilot installed or just take a damn speed boat.

Bullets still whizzed past, but they were getting further away as she maneuvered them around buildings and went further towards the mountains. The ring box sat under her chair safe and sound. She almost couldn’t wait to try them on, but she had too. They weren’t out of the woods yet. Not until she got them to their rendezvous point at least 80 miles north of here.

Her mind started to whir a mile a minute for how to lose their pursuers in the tree line when a heavy hand pressed between her shoulder blades just below her neck. Fujiko paused wondering what Goemon was doing when she felt his breath against his ear.

“I love you.”

The words were quiet, like a secret. Fujiko knew she was blushing and was about to counter it with a flirtatious comment, but all that left her mouth was a screech. Goemon used that moment to relocate her dislocated shoulder. It worked, but it hurt.

“GOEMON, YOU ASSHOLE.”

“I am sorry. It might have been dangerous to leave it as is for the rest of our journey,” He held up his hand with a small bow as if he were a monk.

He was right, but who cared if he was right. It still hurt. Fujiko mentally took off a paid vacation day from his upcoming payment.

  
  


* * *

  
  


Fujiko was partially covered in dirt and grime from the car crash. Cautious, she approached the sweet looking villa nestled on the countryside hill dotted with yellow flowers as if plucked from a painting. Compared to the bright sunny sky, she looked out of place here. A black smudge from a stray brush stroke in all the pastel tones surrounding her. Reaching a hand up, she grabbed the knob and let her forehead rest against the pale wood paneling of the door. It was hard to think right now. She tried not to think. She needed to keep moving.

The door opened without preamble, and on the other side stood Lupin stopped mid stride in the hallway. He was holding a tray of steaming mugs while adorned in an ugly green apron over his pinstripe pajamas.

“Fujiko?”

“Lupin.” There was no sweetness to her voice. Just exhaustion. She was wearier than all her years in that moment, and all she wanted to do was sag down to the floor and soak in it, but she couldn’t. Not yet. She needed something. Something to settle her. Something to make things feel real again and stiff her head out of this limbo.

He didn’t hesitate to set the tray on the side table near the door and start tugging her inside. “What happened? Are you okay? Is someone chasing you?”

“Could I use your shower?”

Answering a question with a question. There was always an opportunity to derail with Lupin. She couldn’t talk about what happened prior to her two hour trek here from the car wreck. Not yet....not yet. His arm was around her waist, the other holding onto her hand to help her inside and up the stairs. She didn’t refuse the help. Fujiko even muttered a soft thank you once she was in the blue tiled bathroom.

“Do you need help?” The lecherous tone that would seep into his words while uttering such a phrase in this situation was completely absent.

She shook her head. Lupin chose that moment to look at her. Really look into her eyes before his expression became pinched. He couldn’t always read her intentions, but he could always understand her. That’s one of the reasons she couldn’t stay away from him, and he couldn’t stay away from her. It was one of the reasons they worked so well together. The mutual understanding. The acknowledgement of the others’ secrets, the others’ demons, and the quiet acceptance of them without having to whisper them for the walls to hear.

“I’ll bring you some clothes.” Lupin lingered around her for a moment. Maybe he was trying to make sure she was real, that she was there, and accepted the unknown weight of the situation with a slow exhale.

Fujiko watched him leave. The door closed behind him with a snickt, and she was left in the bathroom with her thoughts. For a while, she made no motion to get undressed choosing instead to look around the room. There was a deep bathtub tucked into the back wall corner. Above that hung a removable shower head that looked newer than the tile it was installed in. The rest of the bathroom contained the normal fixtures. A stark white toilet sitting below a towel rack bearing three towels stacked on top of each other trying to compete for space. A wide sink sitting into a white and grey speckled countertop. She stopped her eyes before they could go higher and see her reflection in the mirror.

That was enough looking around. She reached up to pull down the zipper, but the small handle snapped into her hand when she got to her chest. Fujiko felt a familiar burning at the edges of her eyes as she stared at the broken bit of metal in her palm. Hold back. Hold it back. Not yet. Please not yet. She repeated the words like a mantra ignoring the tightening in her throat.

It was as if the slog her mind was stuck in began to break apart, and she knew she was on a time limit. Her motions changed from sluggish to desperate. She tore at the front of her catsuit, the teeth of the zipper popping free the harder she tugged. Flexible leather peeling down her skin but not quick enough. She’d only gotten one leg out when she felt the tears welling around her eyelines. Fujiko hated begging. She hated begging with herself the most, but she tried to wrap her thoughts around anything else as she clenched the handles of the bathtub faucet. Another distraction. Momentary, but the cool metal gave her a few more seconds. It was enough time to adjust the temperature to turn on the shower head. And her other leg slipped free from the catsuit she would either feel were an old friend or a strangling python.

The water hit her hair first. Then her face. A hiccup curled from her trembling lips to test the air. She blinked away tears that mingled with the shower droplets and pressed her open palms against the tile wall in front of her.

Fujiko thought of how they were heading towards the end of the line. She was supposed to have been taking her charge to the drop-off point to reconvene with a mutual friend for safety. After which, she’d take her cut of the cash and run. Fujiko remembered doing her usual check of her car before they got inside. The break lines were in order. There weren’t any strange packages or new boxes sitting under the car or the hood. What she hadn’t noticed was there was something in the hood that was replaced. One of the breaker cables.

If she’d been going the speed limit, she would’ve been able to curve them along the road, but Fujiko didn’t. She was going too fast. Coasting so that her and her charge could take in the scenery before dark smoke seeped out of the hood. By the time Fujiko went to lift her foot from the gas pedal it was too late. The explosive went off. The car was out of control. They’d gone through the guard rail.

The entire trek to Lupin’s villa, she tried to shift the blame. It wasn’t her fault. Fujiko didn’t think they’d replace something so significant and it not cause the car to malfunction before they left the garage. Fujiko drove that fast on highways carved into mountain sides all the time. They were both wearing seatbelts. She kept her car hugging the mountain’s face just to be sure. Just to be sure. But the image of her charge dead-eyed with a hunk of sharp metal impaling them in the passenger seat washed all of her excuses away.

A sob pulled from her throat. Fujiko covered her mouth with one of her hands. This should be nothing. She’d seen worse. Her body began to shudder and mucus grew loose in her nostrils. Was it the head injury or the metal piercing that killed her charge first? She sniffled, tears flowing more freely from her eyes. Which would’ve been more painless? Her knees grew weak. The way the flames burst from the wreckage made her wonder if there’d be a body to recover. Fujiko sunk to her knees. It was too much. Not yet turned into right now, and she cried.

She cried louder than she wanted to with a hand covering her mouth. Hoping the sound of the shower running and the fan whirring would muffle her sobs under background noise. Hoping she was far away enough from Lupin and the others that maybe their conversation or the TV downstairs would render her noise mute. Rivulets of water ran down her shoulders until the only thing keeping her throat from getting dry was the humidity in the air. Eventually that ran out as the water turned from hot to cold and her tears dried up.

How cruel was she that she’d already tried to keep from addressing her now dead friend by her name?

Reaching up, Fujiko turned the water off and a soft knock came at the door a moment after. The door opened and a familiar hand set a thick folded towel and clothes onto the counter before the door shut again. The fog returned to her mind as she clambered out of the tub. There wasn’t much to say about the clothes sitting on the towel. A long flannel button down, some boxers she knew belonged to Jigen, a sports bra probably for one of Lupin’s disguises, and a silk hair tie Goemon favored when cooking. She chewed on her tongue as she put on the garments trying to think of what to say to Lupin. The shadow under the door told her he was waiting outside. Trying to give her privacy, but not wanting to be too far away in case someone was after her. Watching just in case someone tried to snatch her while her guard was down. A part of her hoped he’d run back downstairs and give her some space. Let her lounge in his bed until she nodded off and forgot the time of day it was when she awoke.

Opening the door as hesitantly as she had the front door earlier, Fujiko stepped out of the bathroom. Lupin stood in front of the hallway wall, his ugly green apron gone, but his pajama shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Fujiko.”

She gave him a smile she knew didn’t reach her eyes saying, “I’m fine, Lupin.”

Maybe he’d seen something in her expression that she’d failed to hide. Maybe he’d been listening in on her cry in the shower, an embarrassing thought. Maybe there was something in her tone that made him shake his head at her, because the next moment she’d been swept into a hug. His hand resting on her wet hair to keep her face pressed in the spot between his shoulder and his chest.

“I love you.”

“Don’t,” she choked on the word. The burning returning to her eyes as her throat started to tighten up.

“I love you.” Lupin held her tighter, “I love you so much.”

Her throat still felt raw as she hiccuped again. “Please.”

He didn’t repeat himself, but he didn’t let go of her either. All Lupin did was hold Fujiko as tight as he could while she fell apart, and what else could she do but let him?

  
  


* * *

  
  


Fujiko was bored. Usually that meant bad news for anyone involved with her because boredom spurred spontaneously dangerous ideas. Unfortunately, that sort of thinking would have to wait since it was finally time to nab a ruby the size of a baseball from their latest target tonight. Lupin’s voice droned on and on as he explained the significance of what they were going to steal to Jigen and Goemon. The historical context, how the safe traps worked, who their target was and what they would attempt to do before Zenigata’s arrival, blah blah blah. Fujiko already knew the history, had been monitoring their target as a secretary for the last 12 weeks, and even saw the blueprints the inspector received for how to get in and out of the safe. She didn’t need to hear it a second time.

Her eyes wandered to Goemon who sat on the right side of the table. His arms were crossed and resting on his lap as his eyes surveyed the map Lupin drew up. Fujiko caught the flashes of confusion on his face when Lupin said something overly complex or spoke too fast for him to catch what he said. She knew he was too polite to interrupt, so he swallowed any questions. Stalling to either ask them all at the end, or hope he can catch the answers to them before Lupin finished. It was cute of him. Fujiko stopped herself from reaching over to give his cheek a condescending pinch as her eyes roved over to Jigen.

Unlike Goemon, Jigen kept interrupting to ask questions or stop Lupin telling him to slow down with some bite to his words. With plans this intricate, Jigen didn’t care much for politeness. He wanted instruction that was straight forward so he wouldn’t mess anything up. Any of the purple prose he was used to entertaining took a backseat. Sometimes he’d draw his hands along the path Lupin’s fingers would flow over first to memorize them. Other times he’d take the pins and stick them at stopping points, color coding them in his own way. This action helped Goemon as well, and whether or not Jigen knew he never said. It was sweetness hidden under a cranky exterior. She hid her smile behind her hand so Jigen wouldn’t see her and think she’s up to something.

Finally, there was Lupin animated as always. His excitement had him slipping into French when he was partially through with the explanation, and Jigen had to tick him back to Japanese several times because of it. Lupin took no offense to it. His hands continued to move in gestures big enough to hold the brevity of his words, stretching and weighing them for emphasis as his fingers made shapes and pointed or went to snatch a pencil to fix something. His eyes were wide, sparkling with mischief and basking in having everyone’s attention focused on him. It didn’t matter how much time had passed, his passion for his work didn’t change much, and she enjoyed his dedication. Lupin’s excitement never stopped being contagious, and Fujiko adjusted her position so she could rest her cheek in her hand.

These three idiots, these three men, her favorite men in the world, her men really. With a wistful sigh, she hadn’t realized she’d uttered the words until all eyes were on her.

“Fujiko-cha~n,” Lupin took her free hand swooning as he kissed her knuckles, “I love you too~.”

“Too?” She asked feigning ignorance. “Why too?”

“Because you finally confessed your love to me.”

“Who said I was talking to you?” Fujiko took her hand back and looked away with her lips pursed.

Lupin pouted, but Goemon sat up straighter in his chair. She knew the samurai was preening and without missing a beat Fujiko added, “Who said I was talking to you either?”

Jigen took the moment to look shocked and pointed to himself with a frown on his face in question.

Fujiko rolled her eyes saying, “No, not you either.”

If what she said was enough for Lupin to stop talking then he must’ve said all he needed to say. With a flip of her hair, she grabbed her purse and made her way towards the door.

“Remember boys, we have a date tonight at 11:30. Don’t be late.” And giving a flirtatious wink, she was out the door.

**Author's Note:**

> I do like to think one of Fujiko's main love languages is verbal affirmation which is another of the many reasons her and Lupin are so compatible, but this is my first fic focusing on her so I'm hoping I do her justice here and can get better about it going forward.
> 
> Any and all feedback is welcome, thank you so much for reading!


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